the run of the show. What if Zack had a life before he auditioned? The way Chandra had.
Sadness came over her. The young man from Kentucky stood out in the group of contestants. The show would make him a star, she had no doubt. But she worried about him. What if the show changed him? What if it cost him something he held dear from his former life? The truth was, if Zack wound up being a finalist, the unsuspecting young man waiting for his flight to New York City would never go back to Kentucky. Not exactly like this.
She thought about her parents and how much she missed them.
Her daddy had loved her so much. But her mom had been her friend. Her best friend. Winning this show had cost Chandra so much.
Already she could feel tears welling in her eyes. She couldn’t cry. Not in public. Even with her head down, a number of people had already recognized her—though thankfully none of them had come up for her autograph. She was pretty sure a few cell phones were aimed at her from across the concourse. People who would put up YouTube clips of Chandra Olson sitting at the airport. No, she couldn’t cry. People would always associate her with the tragic death of her parents. If someone snapped a shot of her wiping tears, the picture would make the front page of tabloids. “Chandra Olson Missing Her Parents.”
If she were going to move on, then she needed to grieve in private.
There were two reasons why she’d agreed to be a judge. Because maybe in walking through a season from behind the judge’s table, she would see again the girl she’d been. She would find her past.
The second reason was to make a difference for someone else. She called up a photo on her phone—the one taken minutes before she left home for her
Chandra switched gears. She couldn’t stay in the past, not for more than a few minutes. She checked her boarding pass, anything to bring her back to the present. The truth was something no one knew. Something no camera would ever capture.
Just the way Chandra wanted it.
HE COULDN’T FIND a minute alone. Even here at the airport. That was the problem, and Zack knew he had to do something about it. Ever since his few minutes in front of the judges, since the whole Tebowing circus, he’d been moved from one event or interview or meeting to another.
His roommate—Jackson Blackwell, from the gospel choir—sat next to him, humming. “You like that, Zack?” Jackson’s smile was contagious.
“Don’t know it.”
“Really? Come on! That’s ‘Souled Out’ by Hezekiah Walker.” Jackson rolled his eyes. “Man, everyone knows that jam. We sing it every Sunday.”
Zack laughed. “Not at my church.”
“Well.” He slapped his knee. “When this madness is over I’m paying a visit to Kentucky and we’ll fix that right up.”
“Deal.” Zack nodded.
“I wanna be there for that.” Zoey sat on his other side, her eyes bright. “Okay, Zack? You gotta tell me.”
Zack checked the time on his phone. At this rate he wouldn’t find a single moment to talk to Reese.
“Attention,” a voice came from the airport loudspeaker. “We will begin boarding in a few minutes. Please have your boarding pass ready.”
During the interruption Zoey hurried over to the gospel singer to listen to more Hezekiah music off Jackson’s phone. Today she seemed intent on flirting with other guys, maybe to prove to Zack she had options. Whatever her deal, Zack didn’t care. He was grateful for a few seconds alone.
Last night the contestants didn’t get back to the hotel until well after midnight, the first free time all day. Jackson had gotten on the phone with a buddy from back home, and Zack had sent a series of texts. He read them again now.
He figured she would be up late, waiting to hear from him. But five minutes became ten, so he sent her another text.
There was no response until early this morning when he was in the shower.
He had texted her three times since then.
“What’re you doing?” Zoey was back beside him. She leaned in, pressing her cheek against his arm and peering down at his phone. “Texting the girlfriend?”
“Yeah.” He clicked the screen off. “She’s super happy for me.”
“Is she on Twitter?”
“Not a lot.” He didn’t want this conversation. Didn’t want to smell Zoey’s perfume. He edged away from her and smiled. “I gotta make a few phone calls. I’ll be back.”
He walked to the corner of the waiting area and dropped to the floor. With one hand shading his eyes he searched his phone’s Twitter account. How would Reese take the things he’d tweeted yesterday? He’d talked about the show. Done the hashtag #
Then he checked something he hadn’t before. His @s. The tweets that had been directed to him in the last few days. What he saw shocked him. Zoey must’ve known a hundred high school girls, and all of them were now following Zack. Most of the tweets were from Zoey. Including one she’d shot off ten minutes ago.
Headed to NY for next round of #FifteenMinutes. Sitting next to @ZackDylan. Yaaa, baby! Whatever cologne he’s wearing it’s perfect. #Winning
Zack felt his heart sink. If Reese had checked these tweets, no telling what she was thinking. Actually, he knew her well enough to know. She would trust him. She had no reason not to. But the comments could have bugged her enough that she might’ve turned off her phone. Or stopped checking Twitter altogether.
He needed to call her. He clicked her number and waited. Three rings, four . . . on the fifth her voice came on the line. “I’m out with Zack or the horses. You know how it goes. Leave a message and God bless!”
He waited for the beep. “Hey, baby, I’m at the airport. Not sure if you’re getting my texts. Just wanted you to know I miss you. I can’t believe I made it through. I’ll be in New York in a few hours. Call me and I’ll tell you what happens next.” He paused. “I love you. Please call.”